


Catch Me If I Fall

by LuthienLuinwe



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Child Death, Circus, Death, Jason Todd is a good brother, Minor Violence, Psychological Torture, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 09:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14734010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuthienLuinwe/pseuds/LuthienLuinwe
Summary: You couldn’t learn to fly unless you knew how to fall. And falling was something he’d become quite intimate with over the years. The Joker's latest activity has left Dick shaken. Luckily, Jason is there to keep him put together.





	Catch Me If I Fall

His shoulders hit the mat first. Sloppy. Careless. He knew better. It was one of the first things he’d learned back in Haly’s Circus. You couldn’t learn to fly unless you knew how to fall. And falling was something he’d become quite intimate with over the years. He shut his eyes and breathed in the stale, sweaty scent of the blue rubber mat beneath him. He needed to regain his focus. Stupid mistakes would get him killed. Worse, it could get the others killed too.

* * *

The lights were flashing red and blue, but the police were too late to stop or intercede on the horrors that had happened inside that tent. Red and white had been Dick’s colors. He’d grown up under them and alongside them, and he knew in his heart he would die under them.

But red and white had been perverted with purple and green. They had all heard the screams even before stepping foot inside. Dick didn’t doubt anyone within a three-mile radius could have heard them. They belonged to humans, but the sounds had been inhuman, something primal.

“Stay out of this,” Batman had said to Nightwing.

Nightwing was loyal. He was a perfect soldier.

But circuses were for Dick Grayson, and he would be damned before he saw something he loved become a symbol of hate and terror.

* * *

Dick had gotten back up on his rings. It was easier to think when he was suspended in the air, completely reliant upon his equipment and on his own strength. He could always trust himself. Or at least he had thought that once.

He pushed himself up into a handstand, but his arms were straining. How long had he been at it? It had to have been hours. He should have stopped some time back. But he couldn’t. Things were easier in the air. Things made sense in the air. Even if it wasn’t the same as it had been growing up. 

He gritted his teeth and let out a grunt when he lost his grip and fell flat on his back, his good friend the mat greeting him once more. He hated falling. It made him feel weak, like a failure. 

It scared him, ever since his parents had fallen. And he was only a few feet off the ground. It was amazing how quickly things could change. A blink of an eye and everything was different.

“Losing your touch,” a voice said, and Dick glanced up to see Jason leaned against the doorway, helmet under his arm. He was surprised he’d come back to the manor. Red Hood wasn’t supposed to be involved in the mission, but he’d dealt with the fallout.

* * *

Dick had pushed past Bruce and was the first one to enter under the big top. Bodies lay mutilated on the ground, some still moving, some barely breathing, most already gone. “Nightwing, let us handle it,” Batman put a hand on his shoulder, and Dick had shrugged it off in a heartbeat.

He didn’t even listen to what Damian had to say before he started surveying. The canvas walls were burnt, but the fires had already been extinguished. A lion lay strangled, dead on the dirt floor, and Dick didn’t even care to see who had finally been able to stop it.

Tiny bodies that were younger than Damian were splayed out in a circle in the middle of the tent, an all-but-destroyed net hanging above their pale, stiff bodies. They had probably come looking for the best day of their lives. What kid didn’t love a circus? 

What better place could the Joker have picked for his little show?

* * *

“What do you want, Jay?” Dick asked, back turned to the younger man as he lifted himself back up onto the rings. Practice made perfect, his mother had always said. But too much of a good thing wasn’t good, his father had always argued. He pulled himself up and twisted around to face Jason, wondering what could have possibly kept his sometimes-ally there longer than he needed to be.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jason set his helmet down and sat on the spring-mat across from the rings, pulling a knee to his chest and looking Dick in the eye, or at least trying to. “I know what it’s like. To be terrorized by him, I mean.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Dick muttered and carefully flipped back around. He could see his sweat dripping down to the floor, staining the bright blue a darker shade. He wondered if it would come out, or if he’d been at it so long that the stains would be permanent. 

“I woulda killed him,” Jason muttered, low enough for Dick to hear, but quiet enough that no one outside the room would.

“I wanted to,” he admitted, knowing that Jason was the only person he could ever admit that to.

* * *

Something was off.

The Joker liked flare. He liked attention. He wouldn’t have run off just before Batman and his family arrived. Dick knew that. He would want a spectacle. 

And Dick felt like he was going to throw up when he realized what day it still was.

“Now, isn’t this the perfect way to remember the greats?” the madman’s voice echoed through the tent. Bruce and Damian had started looking around, but Dick didn’t need to. He knew exactly where Joker would be.

And sure enough, when he looked up, he could see the clown prince standing on the ledge, standing where he and his parents would have stood. A growl formed deep in his chest, but before he could move forward, someone had grabbed him from behind, restraining him by his arms.

The person was trying to whisper to him, but Dick couldn’t hear. “Performing without a net,” he could hear the Joker laugh. The sound chilled him to the bone. He needed to get up there. He wasn’t going to relive that moment, not that day. Not ever.

* * *

“You held me back,” Dick glared at Jason as he dropped back down to the floor, landing on his feet that time. God, if Jason hadn’t been there to hold him back…

“You would have regretted it,” Jason sighed and stretched back out, leaning back on his elbows and staring up at the ceiling. Dick hated it, hated how calm and at ease Jason could be under the circumstances. Especially when Dick’s blood was still boiling.

“You don’t know that,” he argued and crossed his arms. He needed to keep his temper in check. Jason was just trying to help. He knew that. And he wasn’t about to throw away the only small amount of interaction he’d had with his once-brother in years away to make a point.

“I know you,” Jason countered and glanced at him once more. “I can handle killing. It’s nothin’ to me by now. It would eat you alive.”

And Dick just shook his head and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I don’t think I would’ve regretted him.”

* * *

Dick watched in horror as Joker held back a small boy, a boy who couldn’t have been older than nine, by his shoulders. Watched as Bruce and Damian and Tim, even though he couldn’t remember Tim arriving, tried to get up in time.

But it was too late.

Because two civilians dressed as acrobats, a man and a woman, were falling and falling and falling and just like last time, Dick was helpless to stop it. And Bruce had been too preoccupied with getting to the kid. And Damian was too small to break their falls. And Tim was too in shock.

And their bodies hit the ground and a sickening snap echoed through the space ,mixing with the ghosts of the screams that had been present just seconds before. And the boy was screaming and Joker was just laughing and laughing and laughing.

And Dick was going to kill him. And he struggled and he struggled, but the grip on him just got tighter and tighter and by that point he was pretty sure he was screaming too.

* * *

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jason said, and Dick wasn’t sure if he was referring to the events a few hours prior or to the events before they had even met. Either way, Jason was wrong. He should have been able to warn Mr. Haly and his parents that Zucco had cut the ropes. He should have been able to get to the two strangers before they hit the ground.

“That’s a bullshit saying and you know it,” he muttered and grabbed his things. He needed to get back home to his apartment. But he didn’t want to be alone. Alfred and Bruce would insist that he stay, at least for the night, maybe for longer. He knew it was the smart move, and he didn’t care.

He didn’t want the pity, and he didn’t want the reminders.

* * *

Bruce had gone after Joker. But it would end just like it always did. Either Bruce would catch him and throw him in Arkham and he’d break out in a few days just like always, or he wouldn’t and the Joker would continue to terrorize Gotham until he was finally caught again.

Everything had happened in a blur. Someone, he was pretty sure it had been two someones, had dragged him out of that tent. A younger voice had been bossing two older ones around, the younger voice insisting that he knew what was best fir Dick and that the other two were imbeciles who wouldn’t do anything right.

He didn’t remember getting in the Batmobile, and he didn’t remember stepping into the manor.

He wished he could forget the entire thing had ever happened in the first place.

* * *

“You staying here?” Jason asked, and for once Dick didn’t hear any sarcasm in the younger man’s voice. And he wasn’t sure if he hated it or was grateful for it. Why did everyone have to keep treating him like he was made of glass? 

“Are you?” he countered, even though he knew the answer.

“Fuck no,” Jason responded and grabbed his helmet once more. “Just. If you don’t feel like being alone. You know where to find me.”

Jason turned to leave, and Dick started to get back up on the rings again. He knew Jason could understand, at least more than the others would. But he also knew he was never going to talk about it again. It would stay locked away with all the other bad thigns he didn’t want to remember. 

But it was still nice knowing someone had his back. At least some of the time. “Hey Jay?” he asked, and watched as Jason stopped and glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow cocked in a question he didn’t have to answer. “Thanks.” He paused. “For everything.”

“Hey,” Jason shrugged. “I can’t have you stepping on my territory. Damaged and angry is my thing. You don’t look good in it.”

And Dick wanted to laugh and he wanted to cry, but he wasn’t going to do either of those things given the present company. “Asshole.”

Still. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.


End file.
